


Invisible Scars

by Carrieosity



Series: Tumblr Ficlets - MCU [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, EMDR, Gen, Genius Shuri (Marvel), Mental Health Issues, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychotherapy, Wakandan Technology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 11:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18409421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carrieosity/pseuds/Carrieosity
Summary: Bucky has a long road to healing. Shuri has ideas about how to help, but that doesn't make the prospect of confronting his demons any less intimidating.





	Invisible Scars

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I've ever written in this fandom.

“It’s a complicated thing, your brain,” she said. Bucky was listening, paying attention, though his eyes were busy following the commotion that seemed to be the perpetual state of the Wakandan Design Laboratory. Along the far wall, barely visible between the shoulders of two white-coated scientists, something tiny was zipping around under a transparent shield; every few seconds, a blinding light flashed under the shield, and it seemed to jump. Bucky had no idea what they could be studying.

“Are you even listening to me, Mister Winter Soldier?” Shuri paused in her pacing, standing directly in front of him and blocking his view of the room. Her eyebrows were lifted in affront, and her hands were on her hips.

“I’m listening, I’m listening!” he hastened to reassure her. It wasn’t just that, of course, what they were doing was of vital personal importance to him. He was also slightly intimidated by her, no matter how much bigger he was or how many people he’d killed with his bare hands.

_ Stop thinking about that. Stop thinking… _

“Because this isn’t going to be like surgery, you know. Just sitting back, letting doctors carve out the parts of your brain that have been trip-wired to snap you into kill mode…that might work, if they carved out enough, but you wouldn’t have enough left to know or care.” Shuri smirked, going back to her table and continuing to lay out her tools while she spoke. “As I say, your brain is complicated. We’ve got two issues going on. There’s the HYDRA programming, which has some mechanical and some chemical aspects to it. And then there’s the mental damage you’ve amassed along the way, from the brainwashing itself and from the…events that occurred as a result of it.” 

“Deaths,” Bucky muttered, correcting Shuri’s clumsy tap-dancing around the ugly truth. “The murders, the massacres. Not ‘events.’ The things I did.”

Shuri’s mouth flattened. “Only in a sense,” she said tersely. “You may have acted, but you had no choice. Literally, no choice.” When Bucky opened his mouth to protest, she held up a hand, forestalling him. “Yes, I know. The difference between knowing that and feeling the truth of it is a struggling point, and it’s why your particular flavor of PTSD is even more thorny than an ordinary combatant’s.”

“I…was watching,” Bucky tried, once again, to explain. It didn’t even make sense in his own head, or not fully; describing it to other people, putting it into words, always sounded like he was either making excuses or that he was claiming full ownership of everything he’d done under HYDRA’s control. “It was…maybe like a lucid dream? Like I was doing these terrible things, and I knew they were terrible, but I also knew I wasn’t in control, so I just watched. If I’d fought more—”

“—Then HYDRA would have been able to tell you weren’t fully under their control, and they’d only have kept giving you even more of their treatments until you were just as obedient as they wanted,” Shuri finished. “But this is our problem: you know that. What we need to do is make you  _ know _ it.”

Bucky didn’t try to parse the difference. He watched as she placed the last items on the table by his stool, then came around to his side. “All right, I think we’re ready. Sabaa?” She beckoned to a woman who’d been scribbling notes onto a tablet, and the woman nodded, stepping briskly toward them. “Sabaa is our most experienced mental health specialist. She works with many of our soldiers, as well as other complex trauma cases.”

“It’s good to meet you,” the doctor said, extending her hand for a firm shake. “I understand that you’ve spent a great deal of time in a sort of seclusion, so a lot of what you might be seeing now likely feels quite foreign.” Bucky just smirked at the understatement, and she smiled. “Mental health treatment has come a long way since the nineteen-forties, Mr. Barnes. What I’d like to try today, particularly, is a type of treatment that’s only been in use since the late eighties. And, of course, Her Royal Highness has adapted it further, allowing for additional levels of healing.”

“Sounds ominous, but okay,” Bucky said, feeling his shoulders begin to tense as Shuri placed something that looked like a cushioned bench, standing upright on one end, in front of his chest. They’d already learned, quite spectacularly, that putting him into any sort of chair that reclined or felt restraining was guaranteed to trigger him straight into a wild panic. 

“You’re going to be leaning forward, resting comfortably,” Sabaa reassured him. “You will not be restrained, and if you feel yourself start to panic, we can stop.” He nodded, still nervous, and she continued. “On either side of the bench, beside your head, is a small light, as well as a tiny speaker. As we talk, the lights will flicker back and forth, accompanied by a tiny click. Your eyes will follow the lights and sound, moving in a way that resembles the motion made during deep sleep. It’s called EMDR, or ‘Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing.’”

“The simplest explanation is that Sabaa will be guiding you through recalling some of the key memories that are causing trauma, then helping you reframe them and process them without the pain coloring your perception,” Shuri said, sounding eager. “It’s quite amazing.”

“You want me to rip open all the old wounds,” Bucky said. His breath was coming more quickly, and he swallowed with difficulty.  _ God, don’t let me freak out again. _

“I won’t lie. This sort of therapy can be quite intense,” Sabaa said soberly. “But it is also incredibly effective, even in the short term. Many clients begin see healing within only one or two sessions.”

Shuri nodded. “Also, I’m going to be in there with you, in a way.”

“What?” Bucky said, startled.

Grinning, Shuri held out three tiny metal squares. “These are completely non-invasive. They won’t do anything except show me a bit of what you’re recalling. As I said before, one of the complicated aspects of your treatment is the physical nature of some of HYDRA’s work, so we need to treat that in a physical way. By studying the memory, I should be able to pinpoint the particular triggers that were placed, and then hopefully neutralize them with an ultrafine laser. You won’t even notice.”

“Jesus,” Bucky muttered. “How sure are you about all this?”

“About my ability to do what I say? Perfectly sure,” Shuri said, and her tone was filled with the truth of that promise. “About the counselor’s skills? Equally confident. The only variable is you. If you trust us to do what we say we can do, and you don’t shy away from things you don’t want us to see, because you’re ashamed or afraid, then I have no doubts.”

_ I have to try, _ Bucky thought, his heart pounding.  _ At the very least, I owe everyone this. _ Not trusting his ability to speak at that moment, he closed his eyes and nodded.

“Then let’s begin,” Sabaa said softly. The gentle touch of Shuri’s fingers against Bucky’s forehead, brushing back his hair so she could place the Vibranium patches, made him shiver, but he firmed his jaw. No matter what, he’d find his way through this, live up to the faith everyone else seemed to have in him. He owed so much to so many.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had recent personal experience with EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) as a therapeutic tool. It's intense. As a tool for dealing with trauma, it's pretty on the level, but it's no joke.


End file.
